Good Riddance Day

A new custom for removing trash from your life echoes the burning of chametz before Passover. The similarity is no accident.

There’s a fairly new tradition in New York for the transition from one year to the next. It’s called Good Riddance Day, and we just witnessed its seventh annual observance.

Tim Tompkins, head of the Times Square Alliance, explained “It’s a great idea for all of those who treasure an opportunity to physically destroy reminders of negative events of the past year and to symbolically move forward to better days ahead.” And sure enough, New Yorkers turned out in droves to Midtown Manhattan just before New Year’s with their own individual and highly unique ways of commemorating a day dedicated to removing the trash from their lives and for expressing their contempt for the most harmful items of the past.

Good riddance to those aspects of our lives we want to discard.

Some used the moment to burn the letters from unfaithful spouses. There were the parents who shredded the-year-old medical diagnosis of their son’s kidney cancer which has now thankfully gone into total remission. Then there were those who brought documents they wanted to destroy, like medical bills, and objects they wanted to smash with a mallet, as a way to vengefully say goodbye to the troubles of the past year. What all of them shared was a cry of good riddance to those aspects of their lives they visibly wanted to discard, a commitment to keeping bad memories from interfering with the future.

Something like this has been part of Jewish tradition for thousands of years.

Jews are doubly blessed when it comes to New Years. We observe one in the fall, on Rosh Hashanah, commemorating the birth of mankind. We have another in the spring, when the calendar marks the month of Nissan, which the Torah refers to as the first month, because of its association with the Exodus from Egypt and the birth of the Jewish people. Passover is the holiday that commemorates this beginning, and it is preceded on the morning of the night of the Seder with a symbolic burning that resonates powerfully with the theme of Good Riddance Day.

On Passover Jews are commanded to eat matzah and are forbidden not only to eat leavened bread but to have the smallest crumb in their home or possession as well. Bread is something that needs to be totally renounced. Whatever is left over before Passover begins must be ceremoniously burned and verbally negated. Jews recite: “All leavened bread that is in my possession which I have seen or not seen, may it be nullified and rendered ownerless as the dust of the earth.”

What is this sudden aversion to bread all about? What does the food we normally consider the staff of life suddenly represent that is so reprehensible? Traditional commentators have offered various symbolic suggestions, comparing yeast to the evil inclination and bread that “has risen” to the sin of excessive pride.

Allow me to offer another possible, novel interpretation.

Historians tell us sourdough is the oldest and most original form of leavened bread and the oldest recorded use of sourdough is from the Ancient Egyptian civilizations1. Archaeological evidence confirms that yeast – both as a leavening agent and for brewing ale – was initially used in Egypt. Food historians generally agree that the land of the Nile, biblically known for its enslavement of the Hebrews, must be credited with the remarkable technological achievement that was to play such a crucial role in the progress of civilization.

Egypt’s expertise brought the world a great gift of nourishment and sustenance. Yet its “scientific breakthrough” was not matched by moral progress. The inventors of bread remained barbaric masters of slaves. The very people who discovered the staff of life didn’t hesitate to serve as the agents of death for the Hebrew children they drowned in the Nile.

It was a profound lesson about the disconnect between science and ethics that mankind learned millennia ago – and not much has changed to this day. In our own times, Albert Einstein famously warned us that “It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.” And he wisely cautioned us that “Our entire much-praised technological progress and civilization generally could be compared to an axe in the hand of a pathological criminal.”

Martin Luther King put it beautifully when he said, “We have reached a time when we have advanced enough to have guided missiles, yet we still remain primitive enough to have misguided men.” Technology has blessed us with smart phones but left us with stupid people in terms of ethical and honorable values.

Perhaps the burning of chametz is meant to publicize this great dichotomy between mankind’s achievements and its propensity to continue to embrace acts of evil. As the Hebrews were about to be freed from slavery they were to symbolically rid themselves of Egypt’s great technological innovation of bread to demonstrate that scientific progress divorced from a moral code needs condemnation, rather than unqualified praise and acceptance.

A world of nuclear giants is a dangerous place when filled with ethical infants.

Every year on the eve of Passover Jews have a Good Riddance Day. The “villain” isn’t bread but what it came to represent to the Jews in ancient Egypt - a powerful symbol of intellectual progress by their oppressors, devoid of any humanitarian concern for those they oppressed. The pioneering Egyptians ate bread; their slaves, never granted the dignity of human beings created in the divine image, were forced to eat matzah, the bread of affliction.

It is a message that bears repetition more frequently than in the context of the pre-Passover ritual.

Those who came to the New Year’s Eve ceremony in Manhattan who didn’t bring items to destroy were encouraged to write down the things they wished could be eliminated from our future. Entries ranged from pop culture references – “Miley Cyrus’s fame” – to the serious: “cancer,” “war,” “human trafficking,” “poverty.”

All of these surely deserve inclusion. Allow me to add one more: “Technology without values, progress without prudence.” Because a world of nuclear giants is a dangerous place when filled with ethical infants.

Related Articles:

About the Author

Rabbi Benjamin Blech, a frequent contributor to Aish, is a Professor of Talmud at Yeshiva University and an internationally recognized educator, religious leader, and lecturer. Author of 14 highly acclaimed books with combined sales of over a half million copies, his newest, The World From A Spiritual Perspective, is a collection of over 100 of his best Aish articles. See his website at www.benjaminblech.com.

Visitor Comments: 9

(9)
Leslie,
March 2, 2015 4:37 AM

Pass the Chametz!!!

Very insightful and inspirational article that I will share with others.Good riddance to Chametz and all of his sneaky relatives lol!!!Seriously, everyday should be a good riddance day, a release from all things negative. Yaay

(8)
Joey,
April 6, 2014 7:57 PM

This is an interesting perspective. Bread is not inherently bad, then, but if not used for good essentially becomes worthless and merits destruction?

God bless!

(7)
Aryeh Jacobson,
January 7, 2014 5:58 PM

It's t'shuva

Reb Hi Goan taught us to do T'shuva every day, on the person we were yesterday. We say good riddance to our past and work to become a better person in the present and future; one step at a time

(6)
rita fron trornto,
January 5, 2014 10:51 PM

hi rabbi,yosher koach, i'd like to add an idea.

the matzah is also a symbol of freedom and so on Passover welist situations,things etc.from which we want to be freed.

(5)
Bracha Goetz,
January 5, 2014 7:12 PM

Great article

What a brilliant and helpful insight!

(4)
Leah,
January 5, 2014 7:01 PM

Excellent

Excellent article, Rabbi Blech! I am making a copy of it for my binder where I keep Torah articles to share and reread.

(3)
Anonymous,
January 5, 2014 5:15 PM

Interesting!

This is a fascinating new take on the Passover leaven prohibition. Thank you so much for this great and meaningful read!

(2)
Raisy,
January 5, 2014 3:45 PM

Tashlich

I think the custom of 'tashlich' we perform at outset of the new year is symbolic of the 'casting away' of old deeds, grudges, and 'stuff'.

I just got married and have an important question: Can we eat rice on Passover? My wife grew up eating it, and I did not. Is this just a matter of family tradition?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

The Torah instructs a Jew not to eat (or even possess) chametz all seven days of Passover (Exodus 13:3). "Chametz" is defined as any of the five grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, and rye) that came into contact with water for more than 18 minutes. Chametz is a serious Torah prohibition, and for that reason we take extra protective measures on Passover to prevent any mistakes.

Hence the category of food called "kitniyot" (sometimes referred to generically as "legumes"). This includes rice, corn, soy beans, string beans, peas, lentils, peanuts, mustard, sesame seeds and poppy seeds. Even though kitniyot cannot technically become chametz, Ashkenazi Jews do not eat them on Passover. Why?

Products of kitniyot often appear like chametz products. For example, it can be hard to distinguish between rice flour (kitniyot) and wheat flour (chametz). Also, chametz grains may become inadvertently mixed together with kitniyot. Therefore, to prevent confusion, all kitniyot were prohibited.

In Jewish law, there is one important distinction between chametz and kitniyot. During Passover, it is forbidden to even have chametz in one's possession (hence the custom of "selling chametz"). Whereas it is permitted to own kitniyot during Passover and even to use it - not for eating - but for things like baby powder which contains cornstarch. Similarly, someone who is sick is allowed to take medicine containing kitniyot.

What about derivatives of kitniyot - e.g. corn oil, peanut oil, etc? This is a difference of opinion. Many will use kitniyot-based oils on Passover, while others are strict and only use olive or walnut oil.

Finally, there is one product called "quinoa" (pronounced "ken-wah" or "kin-o-ah") that is permitted on Passover even for Ashkenazim. Although it resembles a grain, it is technically a grass, and was never included in the prohibition against kitniyot. It is prepared like rice and has a very high protein content. (It's excellent in "cholent" stew!) In the United States and elsewhere, mainstream kosher supervision agencies certify it "Kosher for Passover" -- look for the label.

Interestingly, the Sefardi Jewish community does not have a prohibition against kitniyot. This creates the strange situation, for example, where one family could be eating rice on Passover - when their neighbors will not. So am I going to guess here that you are Ashkenazi and your wife is Sefardi. Am I right?

Yahrtzeit of Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (1194-1270), known as Nachmanides, and by the acronym of his name, Ramban. Born in Spain, he was a physician by trade, but was best-known for authoring brilliant commentaries on the Bible, Talmud, and philosophy. In 1263, King James of Spain authorized a disputation (religious debate) between Nachmanides and a Jewish convert to Christianity, Pablo Christiani. Nachmanides reluctantly agreed to take part, only after being assured by the king that he would have full freedom of expression. Nachmanides won the debate, which earned the king's respect and a prize of 300 gold coins. But this incensed the Church: Nachmanides was charged with blasphemy and he was forced to flee Spain. So at age 72, Nachmanides moved to Jerusalem. He was struck by the desolation in the Holy City -- there were so few Jews that he could not even find a minyan to pray. Nachmanides immediately set about rebuilding the Jewish community. The Ramban Synagogue stands today in Jerusalem's Old City, a living testimony to his efforts.

It's easy to be intimidated by mean people. See through their mask. Underneath is an insecure and unhappy person. They are alienated from others because they are alienated from themselves.

Have compassion for them. Not pity, not condemning, not fear, but compassion. Feel for their suffering. Identify with their core humanity. You might be able to influence them for the good. You might not. Either way your compassion frees you from their destructiveness. And if you would like to help them change, compassion gives you a chance to succeed.

It is the nature of a person to be influenced by his fellows and comrades (Rambam, Hil. De'os 6:1).

We can never escape the influence of our environment. Our life-style impacts upon us and, as if by osmosis, penetrates our skin and becomes part of us.

Our environment today is thoroughly computerized. Computer intelligence is no longer a science-fiction fantasy, but an everyday occurrence. Some computers can even carry out complete interviews. The computer asks questions, receives answers, interprets these answers, and uses its newly acquired information to ask new questions.

Still, while computers may be able to think, they cannot feel. The uniqueness of human beings is therefore no longer in their intellect, but in their emotions.

We must be extremely careful not to allow ourselves to become human computers that are devoid of feelings. Our culture is in danger of losing this essential aspect of humanity, remaining only with intellect. Because we communicate so much with unfeeling computers, we are in danger of becoming disconnected from our own feelings and oblivious to the feelings of others.

As we check in at our jobs, and the computer on our desk greets us with, "Good morning, Mr. Smith. Today is Wednesday, and here is the agenda for today," let us remember that this machine may indeed be brilliant, but it cannot laugh or cry. It cannot be happy if we succeed, or sad if we fail.

Today I shall...

try to remain a human being in every way - by keeping in touch with my own feelings and being sensitive to the feelings of others.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...